


Sometimes All You Need is a Little Push

by hollys_tree



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkwardness, Drunkenness, First Crush, Harry Potter Next Generation, M/M, Romance, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-10
Updated: 2011-12-10
Packaged: 2017-10-28 22:29:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/312867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollys_tree/pseuds/hollys_tree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James never intended to tell Scorpius about his crush – but when Al, angry angels, too much glitter and a grumpy elf get involved, that choice isn't really his to make anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes All You Need is a Little Push

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the [nextgen_mas fest](http://nextgen-mas.livejournal.com) 2011 on Livejournal. Many thanks to my betas nerak_rose and vanessawolfie. <3  
> Warnings: underage drinking (16 and 17 years old)

It had sounded like a brilliant idea at the time. It hadn't occurred to James that the combination of an evening with Al and a bottle of Firewhisky was one that would end in something embarrassing at best and could easily get downright mortifying.

Seeing the pink glitter dusting on every surface in the room, even covering Al's sleeping form, James buried his aching head in his hands and decided that this was a case of possibly moving to Romania.

+++

"I can't believe mum still buys these." Al held up a particularly horrible Christmas card. It showed a snowy landscape, golden angels moving in the dark sky throwing glitter at each other while giggling madly. "Even Lily stopped liking them when she was like eight. And that's really saying something."

"Dad says mum already liked them as a kid and never really stopped. His face is _priceless_ whenever he opens one of her presents!" James said laughing, taking another sip from the bottle of Firewhisky and going through the box of cards for another example of extremely bad taste. "He's too scared to tell his wife he's always hated them. Some Head Auror . . . Oh look, this one is good!"

He held up a card with a pretty grumpy looking Christmas elf, sitting in the snow and trying to stuff the presents piled around it into a very little bag. It made an annoyed sound when they wouldn't fit and started anew. All the while the oversized hat on his head kept trying to slide down over its face. "He's kind of cute, don't you think?"

Al left the drawer he was rummaging through and squinted at the card. Then he started laughing uncontrollably. "Yes, blond and pointy. . . no wonder you think he's cute! Even drunk and checking out ugly Christmas elves you have a type." He fell down beside James and took the bottle from James' hands, still shaking with laughter.

James felt himself flush red and the room suddenly felt a few degrees warmer. "It's not . . . I mean . . . this thing . . . it doesn't look anything like him."

"Uh huh."

"And just because I think he's not totally bad to look at, doesn't mean I . . . stop laughing!"

Al was still grinning. "I don't know why you play all shy around him. You never did that with a guy before. More like the opposite to be honest. Your crush on Tony? A bit over the top. And you honestly want to tell me you never made a move on Scorpius during all this _Runes studying_ ?" he made quotation mark with his fingers, "You never flirted with him? Not once?"

James groaned and lay down on his back on the carpet. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it would probably be better to keep his mouth shut because alcohol seemed to remove any brain–mouth filter he had and made him babble. Also, giving Al ammunition for emotional blackmail was always a bit risky, even though he could keep James' secrets when he knew they mattered to him.

"I know. But . . . he's just . . . _so_ smart. And pretty. And smart. I mean, last week when I was a bit late for studying he was sitting there and reading something . . . I don't know . . . Muggle-Wizarding philosophy or something. One of these huge, old tomes that smell like dust and wisdom. It basically screamed boring. And then while we went over my Runes essay an owl came to bring me the new copy of Quidditch Today and somehow I felt so stupid."

"Why? Did you tell him it was wank material?"

"You are such a bastard, I can't believe I'm related to you. I'm sure they switched you at birth."

"No, I look like dad." Al lay down on his side next to James and looked at him. "But seriously. I don't get it. You make it sound like he's the next Flamel. But he doesn't spend all his time in the library, you know? He isn't on the house team but he's often flying at the weekends with a few friends. I've seen him and he isn't too bad at it either. And you read all these weird Muggle books with dragons and magic, so it's not like you're a second Harold Cooper."

"Harold Cooper can't even spell his own name."

"Exactly."

James rolled over and lay his head on his folded arms. "I don't even know if he's gay. I never heard about a girlfriend but that doesn't mean anything. And we don't talk about this kind of stuff."

"Well he doesn't seem to be the type to announce his sexuality with a big ad in the Prophet. If you want to know, ask him. And while you're at it ask him out as well. What do you have to lose?"

"My dignity?"

"Merlin, you are _such_ a pansy." Al stood up and dragged James with him. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Ending this pity party. Whisky is out; we break into dad's cabinet, I know he's keeping another bottle in there. _I_ know the spells, you're old enough to do magic. Just do as I say and we'll spend the rest of the night in sweet oblivion."

+++

They did manage to break into the cabinet even though it took a little longer than anticipated. Apparently their father had warded it particularly carefully – but he had not considered Al's knowledge of questionable spells. Since Al was still underage he had talked James through a series of complicated wand moves and strange incantations. James chose not to think too much about the fact that he had used magic of a very dark shade of grey in Harry Potter's house or about the fact where exactly Al had learned it.

They were rewarded though with not only a bottle of Firewhisky but also with a bottle of mysterious wine which seemed to glimmer even when it was dark in the room. James found it tasted like a clear, cold night under sky full of bright stars while Al insisted on a flavour of the sea – with the sun on his face, sand beneath his fingers and salt on his lips. Naturally their descriptions grew more and more colourful the more they drank of it.

At one point they decided to go back to their mother's study to clean up the mess they had made of her card collection. They found out that the glitter throwing angels went a bit overboard after their long confinement in a box; the room was so bright and sparkly that James tried to use a sun protection spell on their eyes but he wasn't sure he got it right because they just became teary.

When they found out that the glitter seemed immune to cleaning spells Al had the great idea to move the card box to James' room –damage control– and deal with the study in the morning because mum and dad wouldn't be back until afternoon anyway. They collected all the cards they could find but they gave back as good as they got. Whenever James tried to put one back into the box, it snapped open again screaming shrill Christmas Carols and when James covered his ears it sent a new wave of glitter in the air. He looked over at Al who was yelling at a pair of angels to _just stop it!_

Things became a little hazy after that but James remembered Al pulling out the card with the grumpy elf again and suddenly writing Scorpius seemed like a _marvellous_ idea. Al encouraged him, praising James as one of the rising stars in the world of romantic poetry. And James had to admit – he felt like the greatest poet on earth. Scorpius' heart would melt when he read his lines.

Melvin –the family owl– wasn't amused by being sent out so late; although James wasn't sure if that was because it was the night before Christmas (did owls celebrate Christmas?) or if he was annoyed at Al who was jumping up and down on the bed loudly singing two different songs at once, backed up by a card on James' nightstand.

James watched Melvin fly away into the night with a big grin on his face.

+++

James groaned again.

He had ruined weeks of trying to subtly get closer to Scorpius in a single night. If he would have ever had a chance with him, it was gone now. No wonder if Scorpius thought he was an idiot who cared about nothing but parties, alcohol and Quidditch. James felt a lump in his throat and his eyes burned. He wasn't entirely convinced it was really caused by the masses of glitter he had inhaled the night before.

After a trip to the bathroom, a quick shower and a hangover potion that only seemed to take away the worst of the headache, James tried to come to terms with the idea that he might have to follow his uncle to Romania after the holidays because there was no way he would ever be able to look Scorpius in the eye again. He only remembered bits of his "poem" but those parts were enough.

When James went down to the kitchen he decided not to look into his mother's study. That would be Al's problem now. James had to deal with dying of embarrassment and shame first.

Melvin sat on the kitchen cupboard. No card was attached to his leg and James' last tiny hope of not having given the right directions to the owl vanished at the sight.

Behind James Al came into the room, still under a film of multicoloured glitter. When he saw the owl he faltered for a moment, then he seemed to remember. He looked over at James and said, "Well, it seems we have inherited a bit of a weakness for cheep poetry from mum after all, hm?" He went over to the stove and put the kettle on. "So, let's see the positive side of it. Now he knows. Progress?"

At least Al had the decency to look a bit guilty at that.

+++

James stood a good half hour in front of the Floo before he managed to throw the Powder and step into the green flames.

He had never been to Malfoy Manor before, but Scorpius had talked about it a bit the few times they had spoken about anything other than school work. James landed in some kind of sitting room, everything looked formal and expensive. He didn't think anyone had ever sat on the chairs. James ran a hand through his hair and suddenly wished he had taken the time to put on some better clothes. What if Mr or Mrs Malfoy would answer the Floo? It hadn't occurred to him until now that the Manor was too big to hear the Floo bell in every room.

An house elf appeared in front of him, silently looking up at him with huge eyes.

"Oh, er, hi . . . I . . . I'm here to see Scorpius . . . that is, if he's free . . . I didn't . . . it was more of a spontaneous. . . er . . . is he here?" _Stop making even more of a fool of yourself._ "My name is James Potter."

The elf was silent for a moment then it stared at James' feet where –he realised with growing horror– a few faint traces of glitter were visible. "Young Master Scorpius is up and in his room, dressing for breakfast with the family. Christmas is a family holiday. You are not family and you are not invited." The elf's eyes snapped up again. "Mickey will go to Master Scorpius and announce you." With a last disapproving frown the elf disappeared with a *pop* and James hasted to put his wand out to cast a few cleaning spells on the rug. With limited success.

Mickey returned only a minute later. "Master Scorpius is awaiting you". He held out a hand and Apparated them both into a hallway. He indicated at a door and left again.

James approached the door, wiping his sweaty hands on his trousers several times. Mickey had said something about Scorpius dressing for breakfast and, oh Merlin what if he was half naked in there? James lifted his hand to knock but the door opened before his knuckles touched the wood.

"Hi," Scorpius said a little breathlessly.

James stared. Scorpius was dressed. Mostly. He didn't wear robes, just a pair of jeans and a grey jumper that looked very, very soft. His feet were bare. James realised that a few months of studying together in a corner of the Hogwarts library hadn't really prepared him for seeing Scorpius in such a casual way.

"Hi," James answered. After a moment he lowered his hand.

"Er . . . you wanna . . . come in?" Scorpius opened the door a little wider and since James' tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth he just nodded and stepped in. Scorpius closed the door behind him and leaned against it.

James didn't feel he like would be able to look at Scorpius just yet, so he took a step further into the room and looked around. The room couldn't be any more different from the sitting room James had arrived in. It was dominated by a huge four poster bed, the sheets still rumpled. On every surface lay books, parchment and quills; in one corner of the room under a big window a cauldron and what looked like a potions kit were scattered on the floor. Each wall held shelves piled with books. The only free spots on the walls were covered with Quidditch posters, players in bright blue robes throwing Quaffles or hitting Bludgers.

"I didn't know you were such a Tornados fan?" James kept his eyes on the poster in front of him but he felt Scorpius coming nearer and standing next to him.

"Yeah, my dad always took me when I was little. I still see every game with him when I'm at home. Once he even got me out of school on a weekend, claiming a family emergency, just to take me to see the semi-finals against the Heidelberg Harriers in Germany. We lost– but it was an awesome game."

James looked at him at that. Scorpius smiled at the memory and James felt his own nerves calm a bit. Scorpius didn't look as if he wanted to throw him out for being a creepy, stalkerish, drunk "poet" last night. "Yes, I remember. I heard the game on the wireless. The whole common room was tearing their hair out at the end," he said.

He went over to one of the bookcases, sliding his fingers over the row of books. He was surprised that most of them seemed to be novels, he even recognised some of the titles. "Hey, you're reading Smith's Dark Rider saga? I have them all. I'll get the new volume for Christmas!"

"Really? That's brilliant! I think I'll have to wait until next year. Dad would never buy them. Once he found one of them –second book, you know, where Amar and Trin go into the dragon cave– and he was horrified that Muggles write stuff like this. I got the six volumes of the _Dragon Encyclopaedia_ for my next birthday. So, it's really hard for me to get them. My parents would never let a postman on the grounds and it's not like I can order Muggle books by owl."

"Oh, no, you can actually. There's this bookshop in Edinburgh; it's Muggle but the owner is a Squib. He takes owl orders. I can give you the address, if you want."

"Of course I want. It's bloody brilliant," Scorpius said and grinned. "I'll never again have to bribe one of my Muggleborn friends to bring an extra trunk full of books for me to Hogwarts."

They went over to Scorpius' desk and James scribbled a few lines on a piece of parchment. He handed it over to Scorpius and their fingers touched. It sent a tingly feeling up James' arm. James stuffed his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat. There was nothing left to do. They had talked about books and Quidditch, about everything but the pink Erumpent in the room. James summoned all his courage and was about to open his mouth when Scorpius said, "So . . . your letter last night."

"Oh, Merlin. . ." James let out the breath he'd been holding.

"It was . . . er . . . interesting. Nice card."

"I . . ."

"It could even sing. Not very well, but it tried, right?"

"Urgh, please stop," said James, running his hands through his hair and making it even more unruly than it normally was. "Really, I am so, _so_ sorry. It was such a stupid idea. Please, please, can we just forget it? I didn't mean it. I was drunk –completely pissed to be honest– I didn't know what I was writing and there was glitter _everywhere_ , and the cards wouldn't stop singing and. . . Would you believe me if I put all the blame on Al? I could have never opened the liquor cabinet myself."

There was a little smile tugging at the corner of Scorpius' mouth, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Well, I don't think there are wards strong enough to keep Albus Potter out. At least that's what people say in school."

"I know. They probably couldn't even keep him out of the Headmaster's office," said James. Scorpius hadn't really answered the question.

When Scorpius spoke it sounded rushed. "I'm not angry or anything. The glitter was a bit hard to get rid off though. I think I still have some in my hair. And Mickey was complaining and glaring at me the whole morning while he was scrubbing the floor. When my father heard it he and Mickey had their weekly fight over why house elves shouldn't be paid in the first place because it's an honour to serve a Malfoy and–" he broke off when he looked at James, "Oh no, really, that's . . . they do that all the time, over everything! No problem. I think they _like_ it that way."

There was an uncomfortable pause.

"So . . . we're good? I can do the Runes translation tables for the next weeks. Or months. Really, I don't care. And you forget that card. And the glitter. And this whole night?"

Scorpius nodded and looked down at his hands which were fiddling with the sleeves of his jumper.

"Ok, good," said James. He stared at Scorpius bowed head and suddenly felt the need to get out of there as fast as possible. "I'm gonna . . . I know you want to eat with your family, so . . . I'll find the way out. I . . . yeah. See you at school?"

Scorpius nodded again. James started his way to the door but after a few steps he heard Scorpius say, "James?"

James turned around.

"You didn't mean anything you wrote?" Scorpius hesitantly walked a few steps towards James. "You wrote the grumpy elf had some of the classic Malfoy features . . . you explained the pointy nose in detail and all . . . but you also said that it reminded you of me and–"

"Merlin, no! It didn't look anything like you! I never meant to insult you. You . . ."

"You also wrote I was much prettier than the elf," Scorpius said quietly. His cheeks were blotchy red now.

James mad a choked noise and closed his eyes. There was a long silence. "Because you are," he whispered finally. When he opened his eyes, Scorpius smiled a bit nervously, but it was a real smile this time.

James took that as a sign to continue. "I might have meant _some_ of the things I wrote, even if I probably exaggerated a lot. But I never wanted to . . . I don't even know if you are–"

"I am."

"What?"

"Gay. I'm gay . . . If that's . . . I mean if that's what you were wondering, because . . . I know I didn't tell you but I didn't really know how, so . . ."

"Yeah, that was, er . . . that's good."

"Ok, good."

There was another pause.

Then, "Oh, bloody hell, Scorpius."

James took a step forward at the same time as Scorpius. They were so close now; James' heart was beating so loud in his chest he was sure Scorpius could hear it and he was feeling Scorpius' breath on his face. James closed the last distance and brought their lips together.

It was slow at first, almost hesitant. They just moved their lips and James pressed a dozen little kisses to Scorpius mouth. Then he felt Scorpius right arm sliding around his waist while the other went to James' shoulder. Scorpius' fingers came to rest on James' neck and the contact of skin on skin send a heavy shiver down James' back. He clutched the front of Scorpius jumper with one hand –finding the material just as soft as it looked– tangled the other one in the blond hair and pulled Scorpius' head back. Scorpius opened his mouth a little and James couldn't help, but suck on his lower lip, touching it with his tongue.

Scorpius made a noise deep in the back of his throat and in the next moment James was backed against the door, Scorpius' hands on his shoulders pinning him in place and Scorpius' tongue in his mouth. James slid his arms around him, trying to keep Scorpius as close as possible. When they had to come up for air, James turned them around so that it was Scorpius against the door and started mouthing Scorpius' neck, while Scorpius tilted his head back to give him better access.

Eventually they slowed down a little, the frantic kisses turned into slow, lingering ones.

Scorpius leaned his forehead against James' temple. "Remind me to thank Al for this Christmas present, will you? We could send him a card," he murmured. "Not my grumpy elf, I'm keeping that one, but I'm sure we could find another one just as pretty."


End file.
